


A Cry For Attention

by RufusThePup



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cutting, Dark, Gen, Sadstuck, Self-Denial, icky bad stuff okay, thats my point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RufusThePup/pseuds/RufusThePup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cronus goes to extreme measures to get attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cry For Attention

**Author's Note:**

> triggering subject matter, y'all. self-harm, cutting, that thing. i don't mean for this to come off as disrespectful, it's something i've gone through as well (not for the same reasons, mind), but i thought it would be interesting to look at Cronus from a different perspective, one a bit darker.

He was miserable. Had been for a long time now. It was just something he brought up in passing, but that was because nobody ever took the time to ask about it. Everybody who did acknowledge it thought it was something to be made fun of. Well it wasn’t. This was where it had gotten him.

The paint was dry. It’d still come off with vigorous scrubbing, though. He could comfortably move around without fear of scratching it off, now. He still reapplied the paint to himself ever few hours. Maybe he’d get lucky and it’d stain his skin.

He lost track of how long he’d been sitting in his hive, in this one room. It must have been days now. His stomach wouldn’t shut up, god, why did he even need to eat? Couldn’t he just stop? He could, and that’s exactly what he did. Food wouldn’t stay down even if he tried.

No food meant no running off to use the load gaper, which was an upside as far as he was concerned. There had been a point when he first started this act that he had needed to go, and he ended up pissing himself. Now there was a huge stain on his human bed. He didn’t sleep on that side.

Sleeping seemed to be the one thing he was good at, but even then he was still not satisfied with it. He was happier not being awake, it meant he didn’t have to think. Think. Think. Fuck, why couldn’t he stop thinking?! Everything in his mind just seemed amplified, there was no silencing it, there was nothing he could think about to shut up that one part of his thinkpan that just WOULD. NOT. SHUT. UP.

“You’re not a real human. You never will be. You’re a troll like the rest of them. Pretend all you want, it’s never going to happen, so why bother?”

Then came the time when he snapped off his horns. It took a lot more force than he would’ve thought—horns seemed to be easy enough to crack and snap whenever you didn’t want them to, but god forbid you actually try remove them, then they’re hard as shit.

He tried and tried, periodically taking breaks to aide the aching in his head. He’d feel better when they were gone.

Wait, what was that? Was that it? He stared at the multi-coloured bone in his hands, the one wide end splintered. He reached up to touch the spot where it had been. He hadn’t even felt it come off. But sure enough, there was a little circular patch with splintered ends to match the bone in his hand. He wanted to cry, he was so happy it was finally gone.

With renewed confidence he worked at the other one, finding strength in his weak limbs. The second one came off a lot easier, the throbbing in his skull wasn’t nearly as intense. When it finally came off with the one end crumbling in his hands, he practically screamed, he was so relieved. He let the bone fall to join its twin, curling in on himself on the mattress, a wide smile on his face. He could rest easy now.

…Except for the part where he **couldn’t.** He was still wide awake; he always slept when he was in deep thought, never when the idea entered his head. He sat up again and stared down, gaze locked on his sheathe and nook. Of all the parts to be alien, it had to be genitals. He’d thought about mutilating them, there was a knife by his bedside and he wanted to shove it in his nook. Real human males didn’t have a nook, they just had a bulge. Maybe he should make like that freaky clown and break out the needle and thread. Sew it shut. That could work. Be less painful, too.

He pondered to himself just how far he was willing to take this. People would take him more seriously if he did something drastic, if he tried to prove how bad he wanted to be this. He glanced up at his knife. Dull thing. Stupid dull thing.

Another wandering thought passed by his thinkpan. What if…? That just might work. That would get him the attention he wanted! He grabbed the knife and presented his wrist to himself, dragging the sharp length down his skin. Bits of dead skin and paint were scraped away, but apart from that it had no effect. Damn, he’d really have to try with this, wouldn’t he?

He held his breathe and repeated the motion, pressing down harder to the skin. This time a shock of purple welled to the surface. He grimaced. He hated that filthy blood colour, even the royalty it granted him, it wasn’t worth it.

He repeated the action a third time, and a fourth, and finally there was a streak of bright purple on his arm. It was bleeding bad, but the skin and paint were both gone. He tossed his head back and gave a laugh, it was fucking gone! The gray he hated staring at more than anything was finally gone!

He could do this, he knew he could.

—-

“Cronus! I’m terribly sorry for bothering you, but I need your opinion on something, I’m trying to present my argument to Porrim and I’d like someone else’s opinion, your opinion, for reasons I’m assuming you can surmise. …Cronus?”

You knocked again at the door to his hive. Nobody had seen or heard from Cronus for days, and while most breathed and audible sigh of relief, you were honestly worried. You didn’t realize how worried you’d become until it happened, but it finally did and yeah. You were worried.

His door was unlocked, and you entered only to be assaulted with the smell of blood. Blood? Why would Cronus be bleeding? You hope he wasn’t hurt. You traveled further into the darkness, the smell only became stronger and finally you noticed something moving in the darkness.

“Cronus, is that you? Goodness, you scared me. Why do I smell blood, Cronus? Are you hurt?”

A wet sob was your answer. You stepped closer and reached out, only to hear what sounded like Cronus flinching away at your touch. You pulled your hand back, your fingers smeared with royal purple.

“Cronus?”

“It hurts, Kankri.”

“Cronus, why are you bleeding?”

“It hurts and it vwon’t stop, Kankri.”

You stepped to the other side of the room and flicked the light switch, only to gasp at what you saw.

Cronus was there, but… he looked as though he’d carved away at a good portion of the skin on his front. He’d carved the flesh out of his fingers, stripping them to the bone, and it appeared as though he ripped off his fingernails and toenails. There were places where the blood had clotted at the surface, but new areas were still leaking. And his… horns were gone.

You stood shocked for a moment, then felt tears appearing in your eyes. His panicked mumbles only made it worse.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just… vwanted a little sympathy here, vwas that really too much to ask for? I didn’t mean to do this… the pain vwon’t stop, Kankri…”

You wanted to scold him, shame him for doing something so stupid and then expecting sympathy. That was just… there were no words for that. You hated him and you wanted to help him at the same time. You supposed that was what he was going for.

“Cronus…” you croak out, wiping tears from your eyes, “I’ll go get Porrim, she can help with this.”

“Kankri, no!” you hear him call out to you as you leave. You didn’t intend to get her, you just… wanted to get out of there. The smell of blood was making you nauseous.

You collapsed outside his door, sobbing into your fist. Stupid, stupid Cronus.

He had your attention.


End file.
